Rain Song
by kyrilu
Summary: He hadn't heard his rain song in a while. The sky still cried… But when he tried to listen, there was nothing.  KaiShin.


Title: Rain Song.

Author: Endless.

Rating: K+.

Genre: Romance/Drama.

Pairing: KaiShin.

Summary:He hadn't heard his rain song in a while. The sky still cried… But when he tried to listen, there was nothing. KaiShin.

Disclaimer: I do not own Meitantei Conan/Case Closed or Magic Kaito. They are the official property of Gosho Aoyoma.

**Rain Song**

_Absolute pitch__ (AP), widely referred to as __perfect pitch__, and is the ability of a person to identify or re-create a given __musical__note__ without the benefit of an external reference._

Everything had its own rhythm. Everything had its beat and notes, falling into a song.

_He loved the rain. The downpour was heavy and light; it was rapid and slow. It drizzled and trickled from the heavens, dripping from grey clouds in a vibrant hush. _

_ He loved days like those, and he would listen by the window for hours. He always brought a book, but he would never get past one page. The rain was a silent ritual, and demanded attention._

_ So he watched, his fingers tapping on the window pane, tracing droplets streaking down the glass._

Music was one of his quiet joys. Maybe it was his own imagination, but he could hear a stirring melody in the air.

It changed with each place he went to, each person he interacted with, and each action he did. Some days, he would ignore the sounds, because he already expected and anticipated the tune. It hurt to concentrate on a familiar jingle that was all too constant in his life.

_He liked to be alone. Sometimes, when he was home by himself, he would steal away to the room which contained the jet black piano._

_Some keys were ebony white; others were dark like a panther's hide. He would pause to caress the shining wood, a quiet smile curling on the corners of his mouth._

_ He constantly wondered how such a lively instrument could be so silent now. But to fill the room with noises would break the spell that lingered in the air. He didn't want to ruin this illusion of eternal peace. Not now, not yet._

By the time he was seventeen, he had already memorized hundreds of rhythms. They came to him so easily, like the rise and fall of the sea-tide. It was simple to evoke dull, dead recollections to life, refilling his mind once again with emotions and feelings.

When he was with Ran, the beat was staccato. Quite out-of-tune and indefinable, he couldn't quite place the song into a true pattern. The melody pulsated in an uneven rate, fragile and delicate. He rarely could detect or predict any sounds. When he did, however, the song felt flat and stale, like a joke repeated one too many times.

It was distant and vague, a far-off echo which he couldn't interpret. Ran was out of his reach, and it was too late to fix anything. The song had already been written and played out. Without any interference, it would continue on. He couldn't change anything. Maybe he wanted to once before, but he did not and could not any more.

_He couldn't sing. He could never experience the joy of voicing words of a song. He could try, and he did, hundreds of times, but he could never succeed._

_ He tried to practice as often as he could, but gradually, he accepted it. What else more could he do?_

_ But he felt fortunate, for he still possessed his ears and his hands. He could hear music and play music, just as well as he could read and solve mysteries._

Kaitou Kid.

…was something _different_. The thief was unusual, perhaps – quite unique. Heists were a challenge, a battering ram crashed his way, and he would have to push back, equally as strong and destructive.

Shinichi always felt a twinge of regret whenever heists finished with Kid soaring away on white wings.

_ He loved the rain, but it could not stay. It would eventually give away to the rays of the sun. Life would begin again in its vicious, hurried cycle, broken out of its calm shell._

_ Warm days would come; cold and wet ones would abate. He missed the rain so much that he wished that he had never ever seen it in the first place._

_ "Rain, rain, go away, come again another day," he would whisper whenever storm clouds gathered together in a clenched huddle. _

_But that never stopped him from missing his beloved rain._

Kami, he loved the magician's heists. Dancing on the rooftops with only a soccer ball under arm, trapped in a battle of cat and mouse, of hunter and prey – there was nothing more exhilarating. He felt like he could live forever, the taste of adrenaline in his mouth and challenges clenched between his teeth, the night streaming past him.

The game was not over yet, and that was all the better. For Kid would always be there and always be free, welcoming him to dance once again among dizzying rooftops and the endless sky.

_He loved watching the full moon on rainy nights. The celestial object was blurred behind dark condensed clouds, the view distorted from the falling rain. So faint…but he still loved it._

_ Even if you couldn't see some things clearly, that still didn't mean you didn't know them. Maybe that was part of the attraction itself._

When the thief asked him why he hadn't ended it all, he didn't say a word. Words were pointless – not a single sentence or paragraph could ever do justice to the truth.

It was wrong to doubt…to turn away from what they both knew too well. He wouldn't make the same mistake again, nor let the other do the same.

_He hadn't heard his rain song in a while. The sky still cried, but he would never find the time to cry along with it. He was too preoccupied and too worried to find a minute to stand still, to gaze out of a crystal window like he did in the past._

_Then it was all over, and he finally didn't have to be afraid any more. No more fear, and no more pain. His sunny days would leave him…hopefully he could adjust to the change._

_ But when he tried to listen, there was nothing. Maybe if he had just listened harder, then…_

_ No, the right thing to do was to wait until the correct time._

And when Kid drew him close, he listened.

He heard…Kid. Steady and pulsating, strong and smooth and firm – Kid. Simple and not-so-simple, ebbing and throbbing– Kid.

He heard…an echo of one of his favorite pieces, full of chords that seemed to clash together, but actually flowed smoothly into _music_.

In response, his own rhythm mirrored Kid's own, and finally, finally connected.

And he smiled.

_He opened his eyes and brought sapphire orbs to the sky._

_ The rain danced to the rhythm of music, stars ethereal in the light of the moon._

_ And he smiled._


End file.
